Cube

  The outer cube narrates a man’s everyday thoughts, the inside cube his inner anxieties.

 The Outer Cube:

 Everything is the way I wanted it to be. I see the new leaves of the tree in front of my window and the cloudy sky illuminated with my favorite light. The kettle steams; I have washed the dishes, the windows are clean, the furniture is dusted. I enjoyed complete health last year, was not sick, not even for a single day. It was a very fine year. The weather was lovely. We expected much more cold. Less rain. I’m fine, doing well, very well, as before, or maybe even more. I have overcome the obstacles. Feeling more self-confident. Satisfied. Even my cat has become hairier.  Calmer. Asks less to be taken out. I have also finished the book I was reading. I’m pleased. The new set of glasses goes very well with the rest of the utensil.

   The inner Cube:

 I’m different from others in that, sound reverberates in me. Whatever enters my mind radiates to the walls and reflects back. Whatever I fear nestles within me and puts his head on his hands—his tail on his forehead. My mind makes replicas of my anxieties and puts them in a corner. Blood rushes to every single cell of my body; excitement fills my mind. If I light a cigarette, I feel it in my toes.